


An Unexpected Arrival (Or Two)

by harrypanther



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental birth partners, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Maternity Unit, Brief reference of previous abusive relationship, Brief reference to child abuse (physical), Brief reference to family suicide, Brief references to parental death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Giving birth is really hard, M/M, Some Humor, Supportive Thorin, nascent relationship, supportive Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 14:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther
Summary: Hobbit Modern AU: Two women arrive in Frogmorton Maternity Unit, neither accompanied by their husband. Can two rather uncertain Uncles-to-be survive labour?Disclaimer: The Hobbit was written by J R R Tolkien. Film rights belong to MGM, New Line Cinema and Warner Brothers.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dis (Tolkien)/ Vili, Drogo Baggins/Primula Brandybuck
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	An Unexpected Arrival (Or Two)

**Author's Note:**

> This was the result of a brief conversation with Vala411 and my own experiences working in Maternity. And imagining what could happen to two Uncles-to-be who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. A little angst may have slipped in but I am harrypanther so that's to be expected.
> 
> It's all Vala411's fault though.

**AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL (OR TWO)**

It was a rather nice sunny day as Thorin Durin screeched into the car park outside Frogmorton Maternity Unit, wincing at the ululating howl his sister made six inches from his ear as another contraction gripped her.

“By Mahal-I swear if these get any closer together, I’ll have this baby in your car!” she snarled, her face red with the effort of gritting her teeth against the pain and digging her fingers so hard into the interior trim she dented it. Thorin grimaced.

“I may have gone deaf by then,” he rather unwisely commented, pulling into a space marked ‘on call doctor’.

“You have no right to complain!” Dis roared at him, her blue eyes laser sharp. He gulped. All through his life, except when she was a _very_ tiny baby, he had avoided upsetting his baby sister because she was truly terrifying when she was furious. To be honest, he wasn’t the only one-everyone did. Even Dwalin who had left the army with a chestful of medals and a reputation from that time when he killed eighteen men single-handed while on patrol…And though Thorin topped her by a head and was fit, active and in the prime of life, she could still punch him unconscious without messing a single raven hair on her head. She growled in her throat as the intense pressure eased. “I’m the one trying to squeeze a watermelon through a hole the size of a kiwi fruit!”

Absently, he turned off the engine and hastened out of the car, opening the door to grab Dis’s bag and the running round to open her door and help her out. She paused, grimaced and then a small tsunami splashed on his best calfskin work shoes and the trousers of his best bespoke business suit. Taking a deep breath, Dis gave a satisfied grunt.

“Ah, good,” she said. “My waters have gone.”

He stared at her and cursed his brother in law for the nine hundredth time since he got the call from Dis while he was in the middle of a very critical presentation to some really important clients from Ered Nimrais. But-of course-Vili _would_ be away on business the day his wife went into labour, meaning her only living relative would be the one guilt-tripped into dropping his life, probably losing the contract and his job. He could only hope that Dain could cover for him sufficiently to allow him to retrieve the situation later. What idiot flew all the way to Harad less than two weeks before his wife’s due date?

_The idiot Dis married. Leaving the idiot who had raised her to pick up the pieces-as usual._

But instead of saying a word, he dutifully took her arm and helped her into the lobby, pushing her into a waiting wheelchair (handily draped with a large white incontinence pad, he noted) and pushed her up to the reception desk.

“Dis Durin-Harkildson. She phoned. She’s in labour…” he said and realised he was babbling. Honestly, he almost sounded like his nephew, Fili, who was being watched by his cousin Balin. She gave a low groan. “Please help her…” The woman gave a friendly smile and lifted the phone, jamming it between her ear and her shoulder as she entered some details into the computer and then reached to a trolley and retrieved a set of notes.

“Yes, we’ve got Dis Durin-Harkildson and…okay, I’ll tell them,” the woman said cheerfully. She hung up. “The midwife will be out to you in just a moment.” Dis flailed around for a moment then grabbed Thorin’s hand, trapping it in a vice like grip. He grimaced but knew he shouldn’t dare make any protest because he really would have signed his death warrant, as soon as Dis had dealt with the immediate business of giving birth.

“Thanks,” he wheezed through the pain, losing all sensation in his hand. “It’s her second if it’s any help…” She nodded reassuringly.

“Don’t you worry,” she told him warmly. “It’s all in the records. I know it must be worrying, waiting for the baby to arrive but every Dad to be…” He hissed in pain as he thought she had snapped his hand.

“I’m not her husband,” he groaned. “He’s away. I’m her brother who she insisted brought her in…” The receptionist winked.

“You know, I wish my brother was that supportive,” she sighed. “I…”

“Please help!”

Heads snapped round to stare at the shape standing in the doorway. He was silhouetted by the light, his light brown curly hair gilded. He was below average height but neatly dressed and obviously panicking. Thorin immediately felt a little surge of superiority: at least he hadn’t made a total fool of himself. The receptionist hit a button and alarms sounded as she emerged from behind the desk and ran towards the man.

“What’s the problem?” she asked kindly.

“Primula can’t get out,” he said, gesturing to the compact car that was now blocking Thorin’s car in. “Her waters just went and she says she wants to push…It’s her first so it shouldn’t be so quick…” The doors at the far end of reception burst open and three midwives in their dark blue scrubs ran out, following the other man to the car. Dis glowered at them but even she couldn’t begrudge the other woman some help.

Then another contraction hit and Thorin was certain that she was going to crush his bones to powder.

Maybe he could learn to draw architectural plans with his left hand.

-o0o-

Bilbo Baggins, respectable author of rather well-selling fantasy children’s books, part-time baker and general ‘favourite cousin’ to all his younger relatives, was panicking. His younger cousin Primula had gone into labour three weeks early and her husband Drogo was out on some plumbing job in the remote Northfarthing of the Shire with his phone switched off or out of range, meaning Bilbo had been called ‘off the bench’ to step up. A confirmed bachelor and moderately squeamish, Bilbo was the last person who would have volunteered for the job of birth partner but until Drogo picked up the six voicemails Bilbo had frantically left, he had promised to stand in.

Except he wasn’t sure where the maternity unit actually was so he had driven round a couple of times until he saw the signs opposite Westfarthing General and shuddered to a halt. Primula was silent, her eyes fixated on the entrance and teeth gritted as she counted relentlessly.

“…twenty…twenty-one…twenty-two…”

“Are you okay?” Bilbo asked as she shook her head. Her medium brown hair suck to her sweaty face in tendrils and her cheeks were flushed as she slowly exhaled.

“I think my waters have just gone,” she said. “Sorry…” Bilbo started and then swallowed.

“I’m sure Myrtle will survive,” he said with forced cheerfulness. “I’ve parked practically in the lobby. Can you get out or do you need a hand?”

“I don’t think I can move,” she said, her voice growing panicked. “Yavanna…I think I need to have this baby…” Bilbo squeaked in shock.

“Now? _Here?_ ” he yelped. She nodded. “I-I’ll get help…” he said and ran from the car across the car park towards the road.

“BILBO!” she shouted. He stopped and looked around wildly.

“Yes?”

“Maternity Unit is just here. Literally. Where on Arda are you going?” she inquired.

“I have no idea…” he admitted and ran back across the car park and finally into the Lobby. There was already a couple talking to the receptionist and there were wheelchairs ready by the door but Bilbo knew he couldn’t lift Prim himself.

“Please help!” he called, panting and fighting the anxiety. He had not signed up for this and had known in his heart that he would never be the proud father-to-be accompanying a wife to the maternity unit. In fact, he was completely unsuited to being here at all but he had promised Prim and Drogo if he could do anything, he would. Even if he was already at the headless chicken stage…

Somewhere in his panic, he realised that the receptionist had taken pity on him and had activated an alarm. Everyone stared at him but he had just felt a surge of relief as a trio of very efficient and slightly scary midwives had erupted from the Delivery Suite and manhandled Prim out of the car, leaving a huge greenish stain on his seat and carpet, and whisked her in. He had grabbed her bag and raced in, walking sheepishly by the other couple, who were still waiting. The woman was doing the breathing exercises that Prim had been earlier in the drive while the man was just plain glaring at Bilbo. Which was a shame because he was rather striking with his raven-dark hair threaded with a few fine silver streaks, handsome face with neatly cropped beard and bright blue eyes. He was tall, fit and almost certainly Bilbo’s type…except he was here with his wife about to have a baby. Mentally kicking himself, he scuttled into the delivery suite.

Primula was already having an argument with the midwife who was wheeling her into a room.

“But I want the Pool!” she protested, her hands gripped ferociously around the arms of the wheelchair. “I booked at Frogmorton because you have five Birthing Pools and…” The midwife pulled the chair up by a bed and kicked the brakes on.

“Four are already in use and it looks like your baby has opened his bowels,” she said firmly. “We need to keep a closer eye on you both…”

“But they said in the Classes that it could be normal,” Primula argued, her dark eyes glittering.

“But there could be a serious problem and we can’t put you in the bath until we know everything is fine,” the midwife urged her.

“Be reasonable, Prim,” Bilbo added unwisely. “Let’s see if the little one is okay. That’s the important thing after all…”

“You don’t understand!” Primula wailed, slumping back in the chair. “None of you do. Everyone was making fun of me wanting a Water Birth. And I know it’s my first but I want it to be perfect. And all everyone says is to be reasonable…”

Bilbo grabbed her hand.

“I know Drogo isn’t here but he is my cousin-as you are-and I love you both very much,” he said suddenly. “And I won’t have anything happen to your baby just because you are being stubborn, Primula Viola Brandybuck-Baggins! Now get on that bed and let this excellent midwife do her job!”

There was a silence as both women stared at him. He was breathing hard and flushed but just as suddenly, Primula levered herself up and nodded.

“Okay, Bilbo,” she said placidly. “You’re right. This is why I wanted you to come-because I knew you would be sensible when I was being unreasonable. Drogo would have fainted by now or run off for a cup of tea.” Bilbo winced. Tea sounded like a _really_ good idea right about now. Then Primula gave an honest smile. “I’m just really glad you’re here…”

“So am I,” Bilbo lied as he put her bag in the chair while the midwife began to do her checks.

-o0o-

“I was here first and I booked here because I know you have Five Pools!”

Thorin shrank back, trying not to cringe too obviously. It was fairly certain that they could hear Dis over in Bree, if not all the way back in Ered Luin and while he was prepared to stand up for Dis, he was not going to get into a stand up fight over a Pool.

“Four are definitely in use and I need to see about the last one,” the blonde dumpy midwife told her firmly. People in Frogmorton weren’t especially tall but they made up for lack of inches in bonus feistiness. It was like being surrounded by several Dises…a thought which made Thorin shudder.

“If that other queue-jumping woman has grabbed my pool, you get her out and put me in or I’ll sue!” Dis shouted. “I want a Pool Birth!”

“No one gets into the Pool until they have been checked for suitability!” the midwife snapped, her blue eyes glinting. “We have to make sure both you and baby have no contraindications…” Dis folded her arms across her chest in a gesture he realised she had picked up from him. The scowl was his as well and he wondered what his parents would have made of this production. Or Frerin… She waved and he walked to her side as the midwife began to do her job. He carefully looked away as she was examined-not because he had never seen her naked, for she had been four when their parents died so he had assumed the roles of mother and father and bath times had been enlightening, but because he knew she would kill him if he looked. Once again he cursed his brother-in-law and wondered wildly if he hadn’t done this on purpose.

Then he felt Dis’s fist slam into his shoulder and he grimaced.

“Eyes on me, brother!” she hissed as the midwife straightened up.

“No Pool,” she said, her face grim.

“What?” Dis yelled. “I told you that I…”

“Your baby’s heart rate is concerning,” the midwife announced firmly.

“Concerning?”

“Worrying.”

Thorin felt his stomach plummet to the floor.

“I want the Pool!”

Taking his life in his hands and hoping Dwalin would never hear of this, he shifted his grip and squeezed her hand fiercely.

“Dis Gersemi Durin!” he snapped, his deep voice firm and commanding, hoping that she would listen. “You will stop that right now! Your baby is at risk and you need to stop thinking go yourself and think about him. You don’t want Vili to arrive here and find that something terrible has happened because you refused to let this expert do her job!”

There was a moment where she glared at him and then suddenly, her facade crumbled.

“He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” she asked in a worried voice and he hated himself for the change. She had lost so much in her life-they both had-that she didn’t want to contemplate losing what family she had. He nodded and leaned close, gently resting his hand behind her head and lifting so their foreheads gently pressed together.

“Of course he will,” he assured her. “The midwife will do her job and he’ll arrive safely and then you can yell at Vili for the next ten years for missing the birth and leaving your useless brother to cover for him.” Her lips curved in a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “I know you will fight for me if you have to.”

“I always have,” he murmured.

After a while, the midwife took pity on him and pushed a chair in his direction. Dis was snappish and anxious and the machine’s beeping was getting on his nerves. Especially when it kept making unhappy sounds and marking little red arrows on the printout. Labour seemed to drag on and Thorin hazarded a quick look at his phone. There was a voicemail from Dain which didn’t fill him with confidence about his prospects at the company but nothing from Vili which filled him with even less confidence. It seemed he was doomed to see the whole labour through.

Until Dis started getting restless and the heart tracing began to drop and then recover. Possessing no knowledge of midwifery but fair skills at reading people, Thorin knew that something was wrong before the midwife excused herself from the room. Instantly Dis turned to him.

“He’s going to die,” she said, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I’m going to lose him.”

“No, you’re not,” he told her firmly as another contraction gripped her. She latched onto his hand and squeezed furiously. He grimaced as the midwife returned-with a young male doctor. Dressed in green scrubs, he was a head shorter than Thorin and had a merry face with intelligent green eyes. He peered at the tracing and then walked to Dis’s side.

“I’m Adalgrim Took, the obstetrician,” he told her calmly. “Looks like your little one is not enjoying this at all.”

“Makes two of us,” Dis grumbled. Adalgrim smiled.

“MIdwife Verbena tells me that you’re about ready to have this baby so we can give you a helping hand…” he offered as Dis sat up abruptly.

“You are not doing anything to me!” she snapped. “I will push this baby out myself…”

“Okay, we’ll try that first,” Adalgrim said with unflappable equanimity. “When you get the next contraction, give us a good push.” Dis pressed her lips together, nodded and allowed herself to be hefted up the bed a little. Then she grabbed Thorin’s hand, took a breath in and began. She rapidly went a deep red, her eyes bulging and teeth gritted. There was a pause where she took a quick breath and pushed again. Thorin bit down on his lip because she really was crushing his hand but as he glanced around, he could see something wasn’t right. The midwife was peering at what he was privately referring to as ‘the business end’ but Adalgrim’s gaze was firmly stuck on the heart monitor.

“It’s dying away,” the midwife reported.

“Anything?”

“No signs,” the midwife murmured. Adalgrim hummed and absently tapped his fingers on his leg. Thorin noticed the heart rate was much lower than it had been. What was normal? He wished he had attended those birth preparation classes-except that he was never meant to be here. Yet here he was, unprepared and utterly out of his depth but he would do what every Durin had since the dawn of history: his best, against the odds. There was a pause for a few seconds that seemed to stretch on forever.

“Non-recovering brady,” the doctor said softly and nodded. “Emergency buzzer please.” Then he turned to Dis and the smile had vanished from his face. “Your baby has decided he is very unhappy. His heart rate has dropped to the level where he isn’t delivering enough oxygen to the brain and vital organs. If we do nothing, he will be damaged or worse. We have to deliver now.”

“NO!” Dis’s cry would definitely have been heard in Ered Luin this time and Thorin winced. But he leaned close and used his crushed hand to squeeze hers.

“Enough!” he snapped. “Dis, little Kili needs you. This has to be done. Don’t let Fili lose his brother before he even takes his first breath.”

“I hate you,” Dis growled.

“Fine.”

“You are going to regret my ever being born,” she threatened.

“Good,” he said evenly.

“I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

“I look forward to it.”

“I will tell Dwalin your every secret.”

“He knows them all already.”

“You will never be invited round to Yule again.”

He had won.

“I’ll live with that,” he told her and nodded.

“Okay-do it,” Dis murmured as the midwife hit the red button on the wall and the room began to fill with people. Thorin found himself shuffled into the corner as more and more equipment was brought in and Adalgrim vanished into a gown and dipped behind the drapes at the ‘business end’. The midwife was leaning towards Dis, giving her instructions but he saw his sister, his beautiful, fierce, fearless sister descend almost into a panic. So he leaned forward as well and pushed his mangled hand into hers, his left hand sliding under her head and soothingly twining with her long raven hair.

“I’m here,” he rumbled, forcing her to look at him. She gave a damp smile.

“So now we can start,” she managed sarcastically. Then she gave a little sob. “He’s going to die, isn’t he?”

“He’s a Durin-stubborn and difficult to get rid of,” he assured her. “Now listen to the midwife.”

“You won’t let him die?” she asked him and he shook his head.

“Of course not,” he said, seeing her take a deep breath and begin to push once more. Quietly, he dropped his head, feeling as if his hand was being pulped. The pain was very real, red-hot and impossible to ignore but he closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

“Mahal,” he murmured. “I am not arrogant enough to assume you would even listen to this prayer but in the off chance you do, I am not asking for myself but for my sister and her unborn son. Please-let them live. Let them come through this ordeal healthy and safe. And if you want to payment, you can take whatever you want from my life that hasn’t already been taken. My job. My home. My chances of happiness. Just let my sister and my nephew live and be safe. I would willingly pay the price.”

A fresh wave of agony erupted through his hand as if it was put in a vice and he bit hard on his lip to prevent a cry. There were metallic noises and the soft susurration of voices as the midwife and Adalgrim prepared to deliver the baby. Thorin focussed on the slow beep of the machine that signified the baby’s heart rate and tasted blood as he bit his lip hard. Then Dis screamed and he grimaced, her vice-like grip intensifying again.

Suddenly, there was silence. The beeping had stopped and Thorin stared in horror at the machine-before a thin wail sounded and a scrawny blood-smeared purple infant was rested in Dis’s stomach.

“A boy,” Adalgrin said from behind the drapes with satisfaction. “Gases please.” There were clicking noises while the midwife wrapped a clean white towel around the child, rubbing him hard. There was a much more lusty cry.

“That’s a Durin,” Thorin murmured as the babe was carefully placed into Dis’s outstretched arms. Suddenly, his sister was back, the demon of the last couple of hours banished. Blue eyes shining with tears, she looked down into the little shape, seeing tufts of dark brown hair, unusually dark eyes for a newborn and a fist stuffed into his mouth.

“Hallo baby,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “Mummy’s here and she’s been waiting for you for so long. You did give us a scare.”

“You’re grounded for the next thirty years,” Thorin murmured as Dis gave a laugh of joy.

“If not longer,” she admitted, leaning forward to kiss the soft forehead. Then she looked up at Thorin and he nodded. He extended his left hand-his right was simply too painful-and gently described a rune of the baby’s forehead.

“Kili son of Vili, son of Dis daughter of Thrain, I welcome you to the House and Line of Durin and recognise you as my Heir,” he said clearly. The baby opened his eyes and his face split in a smile that had to be coincidence.

Dis burst into tears.

-o0o-

“What do you mean BREECH?”

Bilbo winced. He was certain they had heard Primula in Bree, if not all the way to Rivendell.

“I mean he’s the wrong way round,” the midwife explained with forced patience. “He’s coming bottom first. That’s the reason he’s opened his bowels.”

“He?”

“Oh definitely!” the midwife assured her. There was a pause and the Prim grabbed at Bilbo.

“It’s a he!” she babbled, her face filled with delight. “It’s a Frodo not a Freda! Frodo Baggins. It sounds so good…”

Privately Bilbo cheered. Drogo had wanted to call the baby Freesia if it had been a girl which in Bilbo’s opinion was one of the worst names ever. He nodded.

“All we have to do now is to get him to arrive,” he commented, glancing at the midwife. She nodded.

“We have to watch you more closely and the birth will take a little longer but you’re almost fully dilated so we can observe things and I’m sure that we won’t be waiting too long.”

“Oh, Drogo is going to be in so much trouble,” Prim announced as Bilbo gave her a sip of water. “He promised that he was going to be here, that he would never miss the birth…and where is he?”

“You know Drogo is a very serious and hard-working young man,” Bilbo reminded her. “He’s out there earning money for the two of you and that cottage you have your eye on in Brandywine Edge. I’ve left him six messages and I’m certain that he’s on his way back…” She nodded and took another sip of water.

“If he doesn’t get lost,” she added. “Terrible sense of direction-which it seems baby Frodo has inherited from his Dad…” Bilbo chuckled.

“He’ll be here,” he assured her, recalling the time his cousin had ended up in Bree when heading for Bywater-only fifty miles off course.

“I’m just being silly,” she admitted. “I just wanted everything to be perfect. I had imagined a wonderful calm pool birth with Drogo holding my hand…”

“And instead, you get a breech baby and me,” Bilbo said with a self-deprecating smile.

“You’re a pretty good substitute,” she assured him as she sat back and began to breath through her next contraction.

Bilbo settled on a seat by the bed but it soon became apparent that things were proceeding faster than he had expected. Checking his phone and firing off another frantic text, he found his hand grabbed as an extra midwife arrived and they set about taking over the entire process. Primula was instructed to push and they informed him that they needed the doctor. And then Bilbo got his shock as the obstetrician walked in.

“Adalgrim?”

“Cousin Bilbo!” The doctor looked shocked and glanced across to Primula and then back to the dishevelled writer. “Wow. I saw the name Baggins but I never thought it was you. I mean, we all thought…gosh, I must have really missed that family news and…”

“Adalgrim! Get a grip!” Bilbo snapped. “This is Drogo’s wife, Primula. You know-Aunt Mirabella’s daughter?”

“Little Prim Brandybuck?” Adalgrim asked. “Wait-when did Drogo get hitched?” There was a pause.

“You really have taken your eye off the family grapevine!” Bilbo noted.

“Will you two chattering idiots stop talking about rubbish and get this baby out of me?” Primula snarled. Both cousins started and Bilbo retreated to Prim’s side as Adalgrim introduced himself and explained what was going to happen…

…which to Bilbo’s eye, seemed to be a lot of screaming, cursing and shouted instructions. His cousin Primula was a stubborn and feisty woman and she spent much of the time arguing and yelling as she was instructed what to do. Bilbo leaned forward and took her hand.

“Come on, Prim-we’re nearly there…” he began as she turned, her arm swinging round and catching Bilbo across the face. He spun back, stumbling, overbalancing and colliding with the sink with a loud thud. Adalgrim looked up and saw his cousin lying face down on the ground. A midwife went to Bilbo’s side.

“He’s out cold,” she reported. Adalgrim stared in shock.

“Put him in the recovery position,” he ordered her. “Get the first aid kit and ring ED. Meanwhile, this baby isn’t waiting for anyone. Primula-can you give me a big push…”

-o0o-

Thorin was sitting on a very uncomfortable plastic chair in the very busy waiting room of Westfarthing General Hospital’s Emergency Department, glancing up at the waiting time display which was unpromisingly reading ‘Four hours nineteen minutes’ when a familiar shape was brought in and his wheelchair parked right next to Thorin. It was the man from the Maternity Department whose wife had managed to overtake Dis and get the last Birthing Pool-not that Dis would have been allowed to use it anyway, he reminded himself. The man was sitting there with what appeared to be a sanitary pad taped to his forehead and looked a little dazed. Feeling a little sorry for him, Thorin leaned forward, careful not to jostle his definitely-broken hand.

“What happened?’ he asked as the man started and then gave a self-conscious shrug.

“Oh hello. Um. Prim has a wicked right cross and she manage to catch me while delivering little Frodo,” he explained. “I fell, lost an argument with a sink and end up out cold. Missed the birth and ended up needing stitches and probably with a concussion.” He gestured to Thorin’s mangled hand. “You?”

“Dis wanted to grip my hand during the birth-but she has a grip that makes an industrial vice look feeble,” he explained. The concussed man gave a small smile.

“Sounds like I got off easy,” he said. “What did you have?”

“Little boy, Kili.”

“Congratulations. A son!” the man offered warmly and Thorin dropped his head.

“Nephew, not son,” he mumbled. “Dis is my sister.”

“Sister? Oh my...”

“And you-surely they could have treated you there so you could have stayed with your wife and son…”

“Oh dear-it seems we’re both in the same boat,” the smaller man said. “Primula is my cousin’s wife. Little Frodo is going to be my nephew since first cousin once removed is quite hard to explain to a toddler…” Thorin chuckled and offered his left hand.

“Thorin Durin,” he said. The man grasped it and shook it seriously.

“Bilbo Baggins,” he replied. “So did your sister get her water birth?” Thorin looked at him strangely and then shook his head.

“Little Kili wanted to be the star of the show and decided to play up,” he admitted. “She had a forceps.” Bilbo winced.

“I can see what happened to your hand then,” Bilbo sympathised. “So did you expect being an Uncle to be like this?” Thorin chuckled.

“I’m already an Uncle,” he revealed. “My sister already has a five year old called Fili who is longing to be a big brother.”

“And the father?” Bilbo asked, his tone hesitant.

“For some reason Vili decided to fly off to Harad the day his wife labours,” Thorin grumbled. “I heard Dis complaining he had seven trips away booked over the next two weeks.”

“Anyone would think he was avoiding being with your sister in labour,” Bilbo pointed out, eyeing Thorin’s hand meaningfully. They both grinned.

“So did your cousin get her pool birth?” Thorin asked, wondering how it was so easy to talk to this man when he was generally known for being introverted and very reserved. But there was something about the smaller man that made him want to share and not just their obviously painful shared experiences in accidentally being birthing partners. Bilbo chuckled.

“Little Frodo has inherited his father’s sense of direction and came out breech,” he admitted. “The reason, apparently, that Prim felt the need to knock me out.” He shrugged. Thorin stared at his knees. The whole day had been a disaster apart from the safe arrival of his nephew but his phone buzzed and he fished it out to peer at the screen with a knot of trepidation in his stomach.

“I know how he feels,” he admitted and frowned. “I have difficulty with directions myself-though I would never admit it to Dis. Or Dwalin.”

“Trouble?” Bilbo asked as he saw the dark-haired man frown as he read.

“Vili has just landed at Michel Delving Airport and is getting a taxi to the hospital,” Thorin read and opened the other text message. His face grew expressionless. “And I’ve been fired.”

“What?”

“I’ve been fired,” he repeated. He took a slow breath. He had been expecting it because it was the worst possible time but how could he ask Dis to drive herself, let along take a taxi? “When Dis went into labour, she called me. Vili was away and uncontactable. She was scared. I was in a meeting-a really important presentation on a project I’ve been working on for a year. But she had no one else. Neither of us do. So I had to leave. The Practice I was working with decided they could dispense with my services.”

“That’s…inhuman,” Bilbo murmured. But surprisingly, Thorin shook his head.

“No, just how life treats Durins,” he said. Suddenly, the weight of everything, of failure and guilt and despair crashed over him and he just wanted it all to vanish, to go away and let him enjoy one good day before life took away more than it gave him. He was very aware of the quiet presence of Bilbo, looking at him without judgement and annoyed on his behalf having only properly met Thorin a few minutes ago.

“I am sorry,” Bilbo murmured. “That must be horrible.”

And then, much to Thorin’s surprise, it all came tumbling out. The childhood as grandson of Thror Durin, renowned architect and visionary planner of New Erebor who had come to believe his own propaganda and had become a tyrant. How the death of his beloved grandmother from cancer had pushed Thror over the edge and how the rows in the family had become worse until he did not recognise the man he had idolised as a young child. Of spending weekends terrified at the mansion, afraid to put a foot out of place for fear of the angering the volatile old man. Of standing up to protect his much younger brother who had broken some precious scale model of Thror’s latest-and utterly impractical-project and being beaten horribly, while listening to Frerin sob and try to apologise while watching his older brother abused so badly.

Of how his parents had cut themselves off from Thror for harming their son and moving away to the other side of Arda-and of Thror’s suicide through self-immolation, destroying everything he had, all their history, their home and inheritance in a final dramatic gesture fuelled by pure spite. Moving to Ered Luin had given Thrain and Freya freedom and the belated but extremely welcome arrival of Dis had been the icing on the cake and almost made up for the fracture in their family and the horrific death of Thrain’s father. But when Dis was four and Thorin was studying for his A-levels, they and Frerin, Thorin’s younger brother, had gone on a day trip to Pearl Lake Theme Park near the Grey Havens. Dis had been left behind because she was too young and Thorin had promised to look after her. But on the way back, there had been an accident and at eighteen, Thorin had found himself responsible for his four year old sister and otherwise alone in the world. They had distant cousins and kin but otherwise the two were on their own.

So Thorin had completed his exams and buried his family and then reassessed his life. He had wanted to become an architect like his grandfather because though he had come to hate the man, he admired his skills and legacy. Yet to succeed, he would have to study at a top School such as Erebor or Gondor…and that meant taking Dis away from the few friends she had and the school that was providing wraparound care. And he had promised his parents.

Thorin always kept his promises.

So he reapplied for Ered Luin University and got a place on their Architecture course, taking work wherever he could to earn money for them. He had sold the family home to pay for a small ground floor apartment with a garden that was just big enough for the two of them and which was much cheaper to maintain. So he studied late in the evening and worked stacking shelves, serving in bars, acting as a bouncer-anything he could that would earn money honestly. And in between, he had been brother and parent to his sister, exhausting himself while making sure she had everything she needed except the parents they had both lost. He graduated the seven year course with honours when she was eleven and already becoming the moody and fierce young woman she was now. But again, he was conflicted when hunting for jobs. The jobs he sought, the ones that paid big and offered the work he really yearned to do were away, in Rivendell, Gondor, Erebor, even Rohan. But Dis was in senior school with a wide circle of friends and flourishing. How could he tear her from her life because of his selfish ambitions? So he took the job in Ered Luin, at the Practice he had worked at until earlier today and had watched Dis grow and flourish. And as she graduated from Senior School with a hatful of A levels and a wide circle of friends, he knew he had done what he must, no matter how unsatisfying his professional life was.

She spent more and more time out of the house as she went to College, bringing home a string of boyfriends that most certainly were not for his approval yet who vanished when he expressed concerns about them. Dis remained wild though she did study and finally, Thorin began to relax, hoping that she would finally settle. But then in her final year at College, she started a relationship with an older man named Bolg that made Thorin very uneasy. He tried to warn her and express his concerns but for the first time, Dis screamed at him that it was none of his business and had walked out. Shocked and hurt, he had said things he hadn’t meant and for a brief time, he wondered if he had lost her. She moved in with Bolg, leaving Thorin alone for the first time and surrounded by his own sense of guilt and failure. But he reached out to her still, concerned that she seemed to be failing her course and recalling his promise to his parents all those years ago, a promise made for a day that had turned into a lifetime. And amid all of this, he received an amazing job offer, a chance to join the Peredhel Architectural Practice in Rivendell, one of the most innovative and exciting places to work on Arda.

And then Dis had returned, broken, Bolg had been abusive and had been pressurising her to cut off all communications with her brother. What he was asking her to do was beyond revolting and it had been Thorin’s determination to keep offering his hand to her that had given her the courage to break away. Pushing aside his hopes once more, he regretfully turned down Elrond Peredhel, citing family issues and knowing that he had probably cast aside his last chance. When Bolg was arrested for murdering his previous girlfriend, Thorin thanked Mahal for her safety and realised that his choice to remain had given his sister her chance to escape. Dis had needed him and seeing her heal from the terrible fate she had just dodged had been worth it. Finally, she was back to being the woman she had been before-a little more wary and a little wiser but definitely Dis. Six months later, she met Vili and had realised after just one date that he was her soulmate. The rest was history.

“So you basically gave up everything for her,” Bilbo murmured. “Eru. And there’s no one at home for you?” Thorin gave a small self-conscious smile.

“I seem to have got out of the habit of being sociable,” he admitted. “In College I tried but I had a young child at home and there really wasn’t much opportunity. And when people found out I had a kid sister that I was solely responsible for…” He shrugged. “After a while, the rejection wasn’t worth the effort.”

“I understand about the unsociable thing,” Bilbo admitted. “I was an only child in a Shire of large families. My Mom was an adventurer and photographer while my father was a respected food writer. People thought they were odd but they were a wonderful pair. And I was loved and supported beyond measure. And then, when I was sixteen, Dad dropped dead. Heart attack, they said. But Mum was never the same. She stopped travelling and remained in the Shire. I think losing Dad broke her heart. But she hung on for me, until the last year of my degree when she developed cancer. She didn’t fight it and in a couple of months she was gone.”

He absently rubbed the back of his hand. “My relatives were fine but I didn’t feel up to going to the many parties they organised to try to ‘cheer me up’. Because sitting in a party after your parents have died isn’t going to help.” Thorin nodded in understanding. “So I gradually became labelled unsociable because no one understood. I got my degree and a doctorate in creative writing and Second and Third Age Classic Literature and I do one class at Rivendell University-a creative writing class in the Winter semester. But my parents left me comfortable and the writing pays well enough.”Thorin waved his hand.

“While I’m an unemployed architect with a broken hand,” he said wearily.

“Hey-I’m a writer with concussion,” Bilbo reminded him. “Who knows what I’ll remember of the story I’m writing?” Thorin chuckled.

“I’m sure your editor would give you time,” he reminded Bilbo. “But who’ll employ me now? I’ve turned down every chance to move, I’ve been fired for being unreliable…and I’ve broken my drafting hand.”

“My Mum always used to say that every challenge is an opportunity,” he reminded the other man. “Dis is settled. You have the chance to pursue your own happiness rather than just exist.” But Thorin shook his head.

“I promised Mahal that if he allowed my sister and Kili to live, then I would give up whatever he asked,” he murmured and then he started to feel Bilbo gently rest a hand on his arm.

“Maybe he’s just taken it,” he said quietly. “Maybe his reward for your love and devotion to your sister is to take the job that has been a shackle all these years. Now you can do what you want. Because you have spend your entire adult life looking after your sister and neglected yourself.” He recalled something he had read. “Loyalty. Honour. A willing heart. What more could any sister want?” Thorin chuckled.

“Says the man with a sanitary pad on his head,” he pointed out.

“So I must know what I’m talking about!” Bilbo said with a goofy grin.

“Mister Bilbo Baggins!” a nurse called. Suddenly, Bilbo looked anxious.

“Will I see you again?” he asked and after only a second, Thorin nodded.

“I’ll wait for you,” Thorin promised. “When you’re done, I’ll be here.” Achingly, Bilbo rose.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he admitted.

-o0o-

When they had finished with him-including a CT scan that Bilbo felt was entirely unnecessary since he hadn’t broken the sink and his head was notoriously hard-he emerged into the waiting room with distinct trepidation. He could hardly have expected Thorin, a man he had only met a few hours earlier, to wait for him when his new nephew was a few hundred metres away in the Maternity Unit. But to his shock, the tall dark-haired man was still there, his right hand heavily wrapped in a temporary plaster and a small paper bag with some painkillers sitting on the next chair-along with two plastic cups of tea. Shocked, Bilbo walked towards him and was rewarded with a stunning smile that lit Thorin’s face.

“I was worried you had sneaked out the fire exit,” he quipped as Bilbo sat in the chair next to Thorin’s impromptu table. He gestured. “I’m not much of a prospect after all.” Bilbo stared.

“You are from where I’m sitting,” he said and then slapped a hand over his mouth. “Yavanna, I’m sorry. I really must be concussed. I usually have some sense of propriety…” Thorin chuckled and gestured.

“I hope the tea isn’t too cold,” he apologised as Bilbo took one and sipped. The tea was tepid but wet and Bilbo sighed in gratitude.

“You are an absolute life-saver,” he admitted. “I normally have about seven cups a day and I haven’t had any.” Thorin smiled.

“How is your head?” he asked. Bilbo sighed.

“They insisted on a CT scan-apparently I still have a brain though I thought it deserted me sometime today,” he admitted. “They stitched me up-without the sanitary towel.”

“It’s a better look,” Thorin teased him as Bilbo ran a hand over the dressing on his forehead.

“And you?” he checked. Thorin winced.

“Somehow, Dis managed to break eight bones in my hand,” he revealed. “They were talking aboutsurgery but decided in the end that I probably didn’t need it. I have to come back in two days to get a proper plaster…” Bilbo winced.

“Ouch,” he admitted and drained his tea. “You know-they’ve told me not to drive and you certainly can’t. How are you going to get all the way back to Ered Luin?” Thorin grimaced as he rose and they walked out of the ED side by side.

“I was hoping to ignore that,” he admitted, his deep voice dry. They crossed the road and made it back into the car park-to see a green van marked ‘ _Baggins and Baggins-Plumbing and Heating Engineers’_ parked next to Thorin’s car. “Taxi, I guess. Though it’s a long journey.”

_And expensive,_ the silent addendum noted. Money Thorin could no longer afford to waste.

“I can ask Adalgrim to move my car so it isn’t blocking anyone and maybe get a cousin to drive it home,” Bilbo mused.

“I could see if Bofur or Dori are able to bring someone over to drive me and the car back home,” Thorin murmured.

“Or you could stay with me,” Bilbo admitted. “I’m about ten miles up the road and I’m sure that you want to visit Dis and Kili.” Thorin stared at him. “I promise I’m not a weirdo. But I have spare rooms and you seem like a really nice guy and as a fellow victim of relative-delivery-related injuries, I feel we should stick together.” Thorin stared at him. “Or not…”

“Are you…asking me to stay with you?” he checked. Bilbo nodded.

“Um yes. At least I thought I did. I’m so out of practice I may have accidentally asked you for a cup of coffee and a new pinny and not noticed. I supposed I should blame the concussion but frankly I am lonely and I meet so few people I actually would love to spend time with that I…” Then he sighed. “Sorry. I’ve offended you. I-I assumed that you…”

“You weren’t wrong,” Thorin told him honestly. “I have been on my own for so long, with just the family I have depended on for years that I never thought I could meet anyone new…especially here.” He gestured. “Maybe Mahal has a plan after all.” Bilbo burst out laughing.

“I’m glad you know that because bouncing off a sink was definitely not in my plans,” he commented as they headed into the neat building. Smiling, they walked back up to reception and met the same woman, who gave them a sympathetic look before revealing that Prim and Dis had been moved up to the postnatal ward. And when they arrived, both women called for them from the same Bay and adjacent beds.

“Bilbo! Where have you been! Drogo’s arrived and he’s already gone green! I’m so glad you were here!”

“Thorin-thank Mahal you are here! This idiot admitted he’s been trying to avoid being here after promising…I’ve half a mind to permanently cut off his…”

Everyone stared at her in shock.

“…privileges,” Dis announced smugly. The blonde moustachioed man next to her went pale and Drogo looked pained in sympathy. “What the hell happened to you anyway?”

“You broke my hand in eight places and I was fired,” Thorin informed her. “Fortunately, my friend Bilbo here has made today twice as joyous by telling of his happy event.”

“She gave me a black eye and sprained my wrist last time,” Vili grumbled. “You can see why I wanted to avoid the screaming bits…”

“Bilbo? You mean Primula’s cousin…” Dis asked, glaring at him and then looked over at the woman.

“And that’s Thorin?” Primula shot back at her, seeing the tall shape with the almost-black hair shot through with a few silver hairs, the close cropped beard and very blue eyes. “How the hell isn’t he married? He’s gorgeous!”

“Oy! Person already married to you sitting right here!” Drogo-a short brown-haired man-protested sitting in the seat next to her holding the dark-haired baby Frodo. He was in the green overalls of the heating company with the garish yellow “BB” logo. Dis was looking Bilbo up and down.

“No harm in window-shopping,” she commented and winked at Prim. “Your cousin isn’t so bad either. And he was very good in a crisis.”

“Well he was until I accidentally knocked him unconscious,” Prim admitted, shrugging. “Though at least he was quiet. Unlike Drogo who’s been moaning non-stop.”

“Thorin was silent,” Dis said and she had the grace to look embarrassed. “Even when I was breaking his hand, apparently. But then all the way through, my idiot self-sacrificing brother has given up everything that he cares for in his life to ensure that I have what I need.” She sat back and inspected Bilbo carefully. “So I am releasing you from your promise, Thorin.” Everyone looked up.

“What promise?” Primula asked as Bilbo rested a hand on Thorin’s arm. He had gone very still.

“On the day our parents died in a car crash with our brother, I stayed at home. I think I had refused to go or was too young or something and Thorin promised he would look after me. He promised _our parents_ he would look after me. We never saw them again and he has ever since-often at the cost of his own happiness.” She looked up, her blue eyes the mirror of his. “I know about the job offers, the people-partners-who came over when I was younger who never came back when they realised you had baggage. I know about Rivendell and the best opportunity of your career which you turned down when I messed up my life. And you were always there for me, no matter how rude or ungrateful I was. So I think it’s high time you do what you want-and we’ll be waiting here for you. It works both ways, brother. We will protect you as well.”

Slowly, Thorin walked forward and smiled, then leaned close to rest his forehead against hers. She gently rested her hand on the back of his neck.

“You know I love you, Thorin-but for once, do something for yourself,” she murmured. “I’ve been talking to Primula. I think she’ll be a good friend. And from what she says, Bilbo seems to be a wonderful man and he seems interested in you.”

“He’s concussed,” Thorin murmured.

“I’ll concuss you if you keep making stupid remarks like that!” she growled.

“He’d probably end up with a fractured skull then,” Vili commented from the far side of the bed.

“Zip it, Mister No-Privileges!” Dis snapped. Then she gave a thoughtful look. She waved to the newcomers. “Don’t just stand there like idiotic new Uncles. Pull up a chair and cuddle your new nephews!”

And somehow, that was how the two of them ended up sitting on uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs once more, side by side once more, with their new nephews (or in Bilbo’s case first cousin, once removed) in their arms.Bilbo was enraptured, his face lit with a goofy smile as he stared into Frodo’s little face, huge blue eyes staring up at his new Uncle while Thorin was equally enamoured with his new nephew. Kili opened his mouth and gave a huge edentulous yawn before jamming his fist back in his mouth. Bilbo leaned close to Thorin.

“I’m going to need some serious help with this Uncleing business,” he murmured. “My little cousins have always been rather…bigger…when I first knew them!”

“Fili was actually bigger and chunkier when he was born,” Thorin admitted. “So how Vili didn’t end up with a broken hand is just…”

“Inexplicable? Unfair? Unjust?” Bilbo offered.

“All of the above,” Thorin agreed with a small smile. He looked up. “You don’t have to put me up if you don’t want to. Vili can…”

“And if I do?” Bilbo asked abruptly, looking up, a faint flush warming his cheeks. Thorin stared at him and then gave a smile.

“Then I would be honoured,” he said. “In truth, it’s the best offer I’ve had in years.”

“Decades,” Dis called.

“First person I’ve met who I wanted to take a chance on,” Bilbo replied with a smile. “I already feel like I know you…”

“Get a room!” Primula added. “We’ll even chip in for the cost!” Bilbo snorted and then gave a helpless shrug at Thorin, who gestured to his own sister. The shorter man smiled and absently rocked Frodo.

“I would apologise but I think we’re in the same boat-again,” he said. “You know those two will be impossible together? We won’t get a moment’s peace.” Thorin chuckled.

“Today’s a day for new beginnings,” he murmured. “And despite interfering sisters…”

“Or second cousins or first cousins in law,” Bilbo added with a twinkle in his eyes. Thorin nodded.

“Maybe this can be one more?” he said, the little thread of hope enough to warm Bilbo’s heart and diffuse the anxiety in his stomach. Bilbo smiled back at him as Frodo fell asleep.

“Best idea I’ve heard for a long time,” he said and smiled up at Thorin. The handsome and clearly flustered man scowling at him from the reception when he arrived with Prim had become someone Bilbo improbably felt he had known his entire life. There was something about Thorin that made Bilbo want to spend time with him, get to know him and maybe find a way to make him smile. Preferably every single day. A man who would give so much for his family and even wait for a stranger he had just met was definitely someone worth knowing…and hopefully, maybe, more.

Yes, maybe they could both gain more new family members today than they were planning. And that was just fine with Bilbo.

**The End.**


End file.
